


long time no see

by westernapparel



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-01-12 12:12:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18446312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westernapparel/pseuds/westernapparel
Summary: Ben travels back in time with his siblings, but he has a quick chat with the goddess herself before he reunites with his siblings. And, he’s dancing more circles around them than he’d like to admit.(Ben travels back with everyone else. He lies about it.)





	1. a circle beginning

**Author's Note:**

> quick note: this work was inspired by chap five, i believe, of “The Kids Don't Stand a Chance” by Raikcaa because i need more ben and god content

When Ben travels to the past, he meets a girl riding a bike. Everything is in monochrome except the sky, a brilliant, fake, solid blue.

She looks at him, judging his stature and nodding, mouth pressed in a line with a grim expression. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

Ben, knowing exactly who this is (for he’s met her already), simply shrugs. She adores the silent, bitter ones as opposed to hard exteriors that hide true demeanors and thoughts, which Ben and Klaus are, respectively. The goddess smiles at him, and he knows she knows. “Your… death, as humans like to name it, was a fluke.”

Ben smiles slightly, void of real feeling to the reassured look he holds, and even the goddess looks off-put for a split second, before resuming. “The tentacles are interdimensional creatures I have little jurisdiction over, other than persuasion.” She pauses, and matches Ben’s smile. “To be frank, you killed yourself.”

“I know. I had to keep up the act of ‘jealous dead ghost’ if I wanted to keep it a secret.”

“Which leads to my proposition: live if you’d like, or remain dead if you wish. I don’t particularly care.” She rides off, into the distance. Her bell rings and colored leaves fall off the trees, leading to a cacophony of rusting and shrilling noises.

Ben kicks the dirt after a moment, and, instantly, he feels a jarring sensation as he’s returned to his body. It’s a thrilling experience he’ll never feel again. He lays there, face unchanging, unmoving, while his emotions are in turmoil as vertigo slams into him like a brick wall. His room is suffocating, but Ben remains as still as stone, and certainly as cold as one.

Klaus barges into his room with everyone else on his heels for fear he’d fuck everything up, if their worried glances mean anything.

“Ben? Benny?” he asks, uncharacteristically soft but delusionally snickering as he ends, but regains his composure quickly. “Do you remember?”

Everyone in the room is waiting with baited breath, although Luther is on the verge of condemning Klaus. Allison is silently crying, Five and Vanya passed out Diego acting as lookout before Grace, Pogo, or Reginald finds him. Klaus looks at him with the utmost pity in his eyes, which is the deciding factor in what Ben says.

“What are you talking about?”


	2. here we are, yet again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sort of a 700 word longer sequel, i guess? its fun to write this so i might—who knows?

Ben likes to think he’s fooling everyone. In reality, even he knows it isn’t true.

When Ben voices his ignorance Klaus’s face shatters, first with despair. It then turns outrageous—how could the goddess be this fucking cruel—and to determination, to preserve Ben’s innocence because a gift of that significance can’t be disregarded. No one questions the lack of positive response—they’ve become all too familiar with it.

Ben laughs Klaus’s response off nervously, partly genuine but still fake. “W-what is everyone doing? Are we going to Griddy’s? He doesn’t have to fake the shake in his voice, the height and piercing noise wavering. Time fuckery makes the transition from a ghost adult to an alive child possible, but it’s extremely painful emotionally and physically.

Klaus nods slowly, a dubious, hesitant look on his face. “Yeah. Let’s talk it out there.” He strides across the room (really, only a few steps), placing a hand on Ben’s arm and attempting to pull him up from his position. He retracts his arm and, with partial success, hides a violent flinch. Klaus stares at him quizzically.

Ben gestures toward his midsection, using the time travel ordeal to his advantage. “Training, remember?” Klaus nods as if he knows what Ben is talking about. He turns, but no one is there.

“Fuck.”

Ben gestures to the window in his room with a tight-lipped smile. Klaus goes over, opens the window, and absolutely plummets with a dead weight. The lack of fire escape or any ridges to break a fall were—are set purposefully by Reginald to discourage nightly adventures. 

Ben opens the portal in his midsection. Unlike in times of battle, it explores the room quietly, but being something it’s already seen, its interest directs itself to the window, pooling itself out and delving into nooks and crannies outside. They lower its host to the ground, where Klaus is hissing at his ankle.

“You know,” Ben says, glad Klaus can attribute his extreme hesitance to talk and layers of pain to the tentacles, “I could’ve given you a ride. Your ankle looks twisted.” 

With a sickening crack, Klaus untwists it. “Shit,” he seethes. “Fucking hell. I’ll take you up on that offer next time.”

Ben reaches a hand out subconsciously, hovering over Klaus’s shoulder when he remembers that he can touch, attempt to interact with a response. So he helps Klaus up to reinforce the idea that he’s not from the future, and continues to help upon noticing his limp.

Griddy’s is trashy with flickering lights and peeling paint, but is well-loved by Agnes, who stares at the heated conversation (argument) of his siblings. Five’s awake and almost yelling at Luther despite his paleness, with a protective hand on Vanya’s shoulder. Luther looks exasperated, like he’s trying to quell the anger of a teen who isn’t technically a teen. Allison and Diego are arguing in favor of Five.

Klaus slides in the booth (falls with relief, more like) and cracks a few jokes, only then realizing the sensitivity of the situation once Five slams down a coffee mug with “You insolent little brat,” aimed at Luther, spiteful hatred coating his words. Klaus interjects with his own opinions on the ‘Vanya and her pills’ topic.

Ben slides into a seat as well, sinking into it and staring down at the table, letting conversation wash over him. It isn’t every day you’ve been given a chance to live and taken it without wanting to live. It’s like sampling a flavor of ice cream—trying it out when you know you‘ll never buy it, just for curiosity’s sake. Death is inevitable, after all.

The problem is that living’s fucking painful. Clothes are itchy and restrictive (although that could just be the nature of the academy uniforms). As a ghost, Ben emulated everything to seem human, so even standing sends him down an emotional roller coaster. 

Textures and temperatures are overwhelming, too, but what takes the cake is Klaus always touching him. His shoulder with his hand, an accidental shove that cements reality. It’s an unexpected delivery Klaus Has been trying to make for years, which he’s apparently trying to make up for.

Not to mention all the sounds he can hear— they’ve come back tenfold. The screaming match only adds to the sheer overwhelmingness of the situation. Ben abruptly stands and walks over to Agnes, failing to eavesdrop a disaster date from behind the counter. He notes the conversation stopping as soon as he stands. Sweet relief.

“Hello.” A smile graces Ben’s lips. He can only hope it’s the innocence he’s aimed for. “May I have an iced tea? To go, please.” 

She nods affirmation and makes the drink. “That’d be five dollars.” Ben hands over a crumpled bill he’s lucky to have in his pocket. It’s fucking expensive. Agnes makes a show of looking around the shop. “Where are your parents?”

Ben’s smile wavers as his heart leaps bounds. “They’re outside. My mother absolutely adores iced tea.” He attempts a fond smile. “I guess I get it from her.” Ben raises the cup in a goodbye, coughing. Holy shit, he’s never expected talking, of all things, to be as difficult as it is now.

Ben walks back over to the table ands sits, diverting his eyes by drinking. Everyone’s gone back to arguing. Luther’s acknowledging he’s done something wrong, but as soon as someone, namely Diego, questions it he’s quick to reassure defense of his actions. It’s a vicious cycle.

“Why are we here?” All eyes are on Ben, soaking up the fake authenticity of The Umbrella Academy they’d left behind. “I mean, Agnes is certainly suspicious of us. There are plenty of chain stores with less expensive and less nosy staff. Also,” Ben’s frown deepens with fake confusion, “what are you talking talking about? Pills for Vanya? Locking her up? What did Reginald do?” Luther recoils as if hit. All of Ben’s willpower goes into maintaining his facade and not breaking into a smirk.

His eyes widen. False realization has always been his strong point. “She—she’s got powers, hasn’t she?”

Klaus smiles, but it’s apologetic. “Something like that.”


	3. lurkers in solitude

Ben thinks that Klaus knows he’s faking.

Everyone else chose to remember Ben of thirteen years, but they also clouded the memory with his sarcasm when he was twenty-something. So Ben decides to be who he was with Klaus—reserved, quiet, but still a snarky asshole at times.

Problem was, Klaus knows how to distinguish between Ben years ago (now?) and Ben now (in the future?). So he knew Ben’s asking too many questions, including himself, and showing more of an edge than he had at that age. But being a coward, Ben doesn’t confront him, and Klaus doesn’t either.

His siblings are notoriously bad at lying. So much that their stories contradict each other, but eventually they agree on one—they feel bad for not including Vanya and they want to help her gain control of her powers. They know this because she forgot to take her pills one day, and accidentally shattered a cup. It isn’t a good cover-up by any means, but it suffices.

When Ben sits in on the practices (curled up in a corner, pretending to read a book), he’s quietly taking advice and tips given to Vanya and adding his own (internally). The eldritch monsters aren’t exactly dictated by emotion, but he has containment problems with his own powers too.

A lot of his methods involve internalizing his pain, so that wouldn’t be good either way. That was _literally_ why she went off and destroyed the world.

But anyway. Klaus’s tells were always obvious—and they don’t change now. Whenever Ben does something, says something off-book, he shifts, glances away, drums his fingers, twitches. If he didn’t know better, Ben would think Klaus was going through a more low-key withdrawal.

Lately, though, Klaus stares at Ben intently whenever he shows some of that good-natured sarcasm from his later years. That signifies Klaus’s want for a talk, an intervention, an argument, whatever—according to Klaus himself. Apparently, he’s seen the look on Ben too many times.

Which is why Ben sends a note to Klaus (tell Allison to tell Luther to tell Vanya to tell Five to tell Klaus) that specified a meeting, which everyone’s going to sit in on anyway.

So it comes to just that—the main room’s cold marble and carefully crafted wooden columns is painted with moonlight and sharp air, a stark grey spotlight on what’s to come.

His siblings have assumed their usual spots. Klaus and Vanya on the couch, Diego leaning against a lamp, Allison on a table. Luther stands stiffly, at attention.

“So,” Ben says. “Father dear is going to find out your gig sooner or later. And yes, I know what’s happening.”

“What do you mean,” Luther says, more demand than question.

“I mean, your gig is up. I don’t know what’s going on, but you’ve all just been staring at me like I’m someone else. And I’m not one to refuse attention, but it’s gotten really annoying. So, tell me. What’s up?”

Diego gives an incredulous look. “You’d never believe us.”

“Try me.”

Diego opens his mouth, fully intending to respond, but Five cuts him off. “We can’t let him know,” Five says tersely. “The timeline—“

“Fuck your timeline,” Diego snarls. “He’s supposed to _die_ in a few years, do you think any of us could stand by for that _again?”_

Allison glares. “What the fuck! Great way to go about it.”

“Yeah, like that wasn’t going to be a bombshell,” Diego retorts.

Klaus interjects, and so does Luther, and Vanya. They devolve into arguing—but with their overlapping voices, Ben can’t be sure that they’re just trying to talk over everyone else.

What’s good, though, is that they buy into Ben’s faked pseudo-innocence. To be honest, he was planning to reveal everything, but it became a shitshow before anyone could say another line.

He looks around—spotting a bottle of wine Klaus set down on the table (disgusting murky color, really. It has no business proclaiming age), grabs it by the neck, and smashes it down. The liquid flows around the shards of glass, spilling onto the wooden floor. Ben’s hand breaks out in angry red, but he finally has their attention.

“What kind of idiots are you?” he hisses. “I’d have thought proper adults know a thing or two about communication. We’re going out.”

When Ben stomps away, not looking back, he knows he has insurance that he’s being followed. One, he knows that they’re from the future, and the real rotten display. He just hopes they’ll get back in time to clean up the mess.

Outside, the air is even more biting. It smells like wet pavement, droplets of water falling from lit ledges of windows and traffic lights and benches, bushes and gutters and the sparse streetlight. Passing cars glint in the darkness before whirring away.

Some of the yellow-lit diners have cheerful, neon glowing signs inviting them in. Most of them are for adults, which wouldn’t have been a problem something seventeen years in the future.

Eventually, after prowling the streets, Ben finds a well enough family diner that wouldn’t care that they’re kids and quality enough. All the places Klaus suggested are too seedy for kids—not as if they could fight without causing a commotion.

Once they’re properly seated (it’s designed to be rustic, tables gleaming with supposed age although polished, as well as the burner fueled by electricity), they throw away all grievances. They pool money to see what they could get. (Ben keeps his stash away, but presents twenty dollars. It’s still more than what anyone has.)

“So,” Ben starts, “I’d claim that there are thin walls in that house—some rooms. But something’s pushing these memories into my head, of the future.”

“I don’t understand,” Vanya says. “Memories?”

“As in dreams,” Ben says, “real vivid dreams. I don’t remember it all—but enough. I know that you all came back to prevent some bad stuff, but beyond that,” Ben shrugs. 

Five scoffs. “That’s not possible.”

Klaus gestures to the room. “Yes, I agree. Especially because we’re seven super-powered, emotionally stunted adults traveling throughout time to avert an apocalypse. Perfectly unrational in comparison, if you ask me.”

Diego leans across the table as Five snidely replies to Klaus _(“It’s irrational, though I don’t think what you call a brain could process that”),_ who gives a faux offended gasp. “These memories, where are they from?”

Ben shrugs. “From what I can gather? My future self.”

Everyone rears back. Ben continues. “He only ever really talked to Klaus and was quasi-gone most of the time. Real bummer, if you ask me.”

Diego’s face contorts until it settled on a deadly nonchalance. “You don’t know him.”

“I _am_ him.”

Klaus, having stopped bickering with Five, joins the conversation. “Last I checked, you might be more of him than we know.”

“Care to share, Klaus?” Allison pointed at his fries. “Also, elaborate.”

“Dear Benny here is lacking in reaction.”

Vanya waves a hand vaguely, “But isn’t he always like this?”

“Yeah, but fancy this: in all the years I’ve known ghost-Ben, he became more… distant, apathetic, _cold._ And by God, this kid? A mirror image.”

Luther goes to protest, but Klaus continues. “I sure as hell don’t know what kids are like other than teenaged crackheads—but he’s taking this calmly. Too calmly.”

“If you’ve had my dreams,” Ben says, “then—“

“What, you’re some sort of psychic? Please, we’ve already got one of those.”

Ben stands up abruptly. “I’m going to use the bathroom.” He stalks off, trying to ignore his wildly thumping heart.

The bathroom, like most, is stale and sticky and eroding with flickering lights and a drawn-over mirror. Ben doesn’t lean on the sink but he practically falls into it, throwing water onto his face until it stings.

“You know,” says a voice. Klaus. “You’ve figured me out, I’ve figured you out. Why won’t you just count your losses and tell them?”

“How am I supposed to face them?” Ben asks, voice muffled.

“Why didn’t you tell _me,_ at least?” And motherfucker, Ben can hear the layers of hurt and vulnerability and betrayal in his voice. It makes him want to die, but his answer is as cool as iron.

“Because of _that.”_

“What?”

“Because it’s going to be a normal, heartfelt reunion at first, but when they move past that—they’re gonna start asking questions. Sure, they saw it, but do they actually know what happened?”

Ben gripped the sink. “I can't do that. I can’t bear the guilt— _my betrayal—“_

_“That wasn’t a betrayal—“_ Klaus sounds indignant. Ben pushes forth.

“—having _killed myself—“_

“That’s not how it was—“

“Really, Klaus? Were you there? I can’t seem to recall over all the fucking agony—Reginald all over again, I _swear._ I wanted it all to _stop_ and death sucks, but by God, if I could I would do it all over again and again and again just to _leave_ but I can’t do that now and it _hurts—“_

A sound reverberates through the bathroom, and Ben is knocked out cold. Klaus has a mean left hook that’s gotten him out of more situations than one, and this was (maybe) no different. Ben crumbles under the hit, falling and hitting his head multiple times on the sink.

“Oh, now _that’s_ gonna hurt like a bitch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> went through my ao3 acc—i actually forgot this existed and wrote something for it. i wrote it at like one am so please point out any inconsistencies or grammar issues


	4. large and suffocating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tooootally forgot where i was going with this lmao just wanted to revive some old fics in a way to avoid working on my other fics

The Academy is a large building, which means that a lot of the spaces remain unused. Stark white bathrooms gather dust, empty rooms that smell of woodwork coated with dryness, even unfinished projects remain commonplace. Most areas of the mansion haven't been touched for a decade.

But that's more than a decade into the future. In the now, those places are often plagued with the tell-tale sign of children: large, loopy letters scrawled onto a wall, crude drawings of bright characters and objects smiling. Stacks of books and papers and various knick-knacks are shoved to the side, as if in a hurry. Pictures are hung on the wall, damaged by a nail piercing it to stay put.

While the Hargreeves siblings grew up in solitude, raised as soldiers rather than family, they also realized that, hey: something is up.

So they convened and planned and argued and laughed and joked and threw away all that they were expected to do. For a night, they became siblings. Until Luther came along, pale and shaking with Reginald behind him, and it all went to shit as they dispersed and he bellowed after them with threats of punishments he followed up on.

It was one of the last times they were just a family and nothing else.

But that hasn't happened yet, and so, Ben finds himself blinking blearily to a ceiling with a rainbow smiling cheekily at him. There's movement around him, feet sliding against wood and incessant whispers. He suddenly feels a piercing pain in his head, which he grabs and muffles a curse or five.

Then he realizes the rainbow's smile is colored red and fully screams at that point.

Someone slaps a hand over his mouth, smelling like ash, sweat, and chemical lotion. Prying it off, Ben gasps for air (because _gross_ ), turns around, and decks the motherfucker.

Around that time, he also realizes that he just smacked Klaus in the head, who stumbles back and groans. "Ugh, is this payback? Because I'm so not putting 'victim of karmic retribution' on my résumé anytime soon."

"Yeah, sure," Ben says, looking around. "Where's everyone else?"

"In the case of Allison and Luther? Very desperately wishing that they're sleeping." Klaus jerks his thumb in the direction of the room adjacent to the sort-of communal area he and Klaus are currently standing in. "But we need to talk."

"What's there to say?" Other than Klaus punching him and dragging him back to the Academy like he'd had one too many drinks. As if on cue, his vision swims and he feels distant and dreamy. Usually, it would be Klaus joking at him, _Whatever they put in my drink, I want more_ , warbling with laughter as he drifts off and off and Ben gets thrown back to where ghosts sometimes go back to. Where they died.

The museum he died in (and isn't that cliché, fucking 2000s) wasn't hit up by those robbers because it was large and well funded, and definitely didn't bring in those snipers because it had security beyond what they already had. The place was already in decline, so it was a quick hit for some cash. (At least, that was based on the limited intel Luther gave them.) It was eventually thrown to rubble, and an auditorium was built in its place.

The first time he saw Vanya walk in after Klaus blasted him away after his, what, tenth overdose, he would've fallen over if he could.

"Ben, you _lied_. Didn't you always piss on me for—for wasting my life? Didn't you always want to take my place, to _say_ something to anyone other than me? You came back and got, what, cold feet? You hide and lie and you shit on me for doing the same? Hypocrite."

"Klaus, I—" The door creaks open and Ben clamps his mouth. After a few seconds, it's clear no-one is there, so he continues.

"I can always go back to being dead. It isn't difficult, and there are just so many opportunities at every corner." The glass bottle he shattered and piece he held left an angry red mark on his palm. Falling from the window if the tentacles retreated. Stepping into the wrong alley and pissing off the wrong person. Falling to the ground in the bathroom and staying there. "So—so I asked to live. Because then I could give you all closure, actually tell everyone that I—that I'm _sorry_."

Klaus furrows his eyebrows. "Sorry? For what?"

Ben freezes. Shit. "I'll tell you when I go."

"Go where?"

Double shit.

"Uh," Ben says. Klaus crosses his arms and lifts an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. A pause for an awkward fifteen seconds settles.

Ben hasn't planned, exactly, to stay alive this long. There are too many aching familiarites, things he should know how to do and things he remembers how to do (in theory). But he also has to think about it, those small things that he shouldn't have to. Brushing his teeth is a big one. His hands keep trembling and the aftertaste leaves a pungent feel in his mouth. Despite the fact that brushing his teeth should have the opposite effect.

Ben's also never had to comb his hair, as a ghost, which honestly is a godsend because when he was killed, Reginald slicked his hair back into the most uncomfortable and formal style that just wouldn't budge no matter what he did. (Meaning: ghost dynamite courtesy of what he's pretty sure is a fascist dictator of some time during the Cold War. Five has had some very interesting adventures, from the looks of it.) 

But that was the silver linings. Reginald issues some extral individual training if Ben goes to breakfeast with wild hair, and sometimes he decides it's easier if he cuts off some of the extra weight he hadn't taken into his late teens, which also leads to some more training. And then, after missions, he scrubs at his skin until it turns as red as the blood, and then some more.

So, why is Ben hiding? Why doesn't he just fuck off and do whatever he wants? He's not scared of death—he'll embrace it when it comes. And life is just another experience, something he can make his own without having it dictated for him. He could just _leave_. Walk out the door without so much as a goodbye because he'll end up in the clutches of Klaus one way or another, ghost or alive. He could let go.

He could abandon them without feeling bad.

Because when has this family ever been a family?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)
> 
> gotta love that end

**Author's Note:**

> wrote this in like five minutes and did not read it over so please point out any mistakes if you see any ty


End file.
